Labyrinth
by slim-chance17
Summary: "To walk safely through the maze of human life, one needs the light of wisdom, and the guidance of virtue." Slight AU - Minho/OC Another girl appears in the maze, despite Teresa's note. The Keeper of the Runners doesn't know what to think of the sudden female newbie, but can't help being curious. T for slight language and violence.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE MAZE RUNNER, OR ANY OF THE MAZE RUNNER SERIES.**

* * *

_Labyrinth_

_"To walk safely through the maze of human life, one needs the light of wisdom, and the guidance of virtue."_

* * *

Minho didn't really know what to think about _girls._

To be brutally honest, the subject only crossed his mind once in a blue moon anyhow.

But lately, he had found his mind wandering over to the concept more and more, especially now that she had arrived. Ever since that Teresa girl had been lifted up from the box into the Glade, she was all the other guys could talk about.

And she was all he could think about, as he sat down on an isolated trunk under a shady tree. At the far end of the maze wall, he watched, playing with his blade by the tip of his finger, itching against the skin that lay there.

In the distance, she was speaking to Thomas. That was all she ever seemed to do. Somehow, that Greenie was her new found spot of attention, and he didn't seem to care.

Minho let out a gruff of air to himself.

Girls.

What was it about them that threw everything off perspective? It annoyed him to think that the Creators had done this - thrown a black-haired, blue-eyed thing into a mix of teenage guys, who were functioning perfectly well before hand. What was their game?

It wasn't that he didn't _like _girls. Because he did. In his head, they were perfectly alright.

Sure, they looked nice...and probably smelled nice...and he seemed to remember in his twisted, foggy memories that he liked the way their hips moved when they walked. (A trait he most definitely did not notice with Teresa. ...He was sure.) Yet for the most part, he liked it when things were just him. Just him, and the runners, and the other Gladers.

Girls made things complicated, and he could tell already.

"Hey, shuck-face," a voice echoed from behind him.

Great. Already found.

Minho craned his head over his neck to catch the image of Newt walking over to him. The blonde haired boy came and sat down beside him, clasping his hands together against his knees.

"Newt," Minho shortly replied.

Newt glanced over at him, a small smirk on his face. "So, is there a reason you're being particularly anti-social today?"

"Possibly." There was a pause in the Keeper's voice. "...Just observing."

"Observing the girl."

"Yep. Just keeping an eye out. Kind of a weird situation we've got going here."

Newt kicked his shoes against the dirt. "Don't bloody remind me. Gally won't shut up about Tommy. Says that he can't be trusted and what not, and now Teresa turning up...we'll have to be on guard."

Minho shook his head. He never did take to Gally, no matter how long they had both been trapped in the Glade. "Thomas? He's harmless. Doesn't know anything more than he's letting on. This chick, on the other hand...I don't know. It seems too manipulated."

"Well, watch them all you want if it makes you feel better," his friend sighed. "To be frank, I'm too tired for this right now. Alby's doing better, but he still needs constant watch."

A shudder ran down Minho's spine. Alby. The changing. It all came back to him in a wave of guilt. How he had left him, his leader, and Thomas, a newbie. Left them in the depths of the maze, scared shitless by a few Grievers. Not something he should have done, ever.

Almost sensing his self-loathing, Newt clapped him on the shoulder.

"He_ is_ getting better," he assured. "Don't worry about what's happened in the past. Nobody is judging you."

Turning a glare towards Newt, Minho finally decided that he wanted further peace and quiet. It wouldn't be long now before Frypan whipped up dinner, and the very idea of socialising made him irritable. "Don't you have something to do?"

Sensing his tone, Newt held up his hands in surrender. "I get it. Don't need to tell me twice." He rose from the trunk, brushing off the remnants of dirt from his pants. As he began walking away, he clocked his head over his shoulder to send the Runner a sly grin.

"What's it gonna take to get your mind off all this angst?" he teased.

Minho buried his head mockingly in his hands. "All this teenage anxiety. The world is against me."

"Maybe just the Creators," Newt shouted. "...We could always ask them to send _you_ up a lovely girl."

Sending him a quick sarcastic smile, Minho watched as his friend disappeared into the center of the Glade. When he was sure he was alone, he lowered his head to the ground and stuck his blade into the ground.

Under his breath, he muttered, "I'd rather they send me a shuck Griever."

No, Minho didn't know what to think of girls.

But he sure as hell wasn't wishing to get one anytime soon.


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE MAZE RUNNER.**

* * *

_Labyrinth_

* * *

Minho found the next day to be overwhelmingly boring. At least, the first half.

Given the situation with Alby and everything, Newt had asked him to stay behind whilst the other runners did their thing. This was a rare occurrence, but Minho knew that Newt would only ever ask if he felt he needed the help. And so the rest of the day was spent wandering around, checking in on the different Keepers and helping out with the day to day chores of the Glade.

Thomas followed him around for the most of the morning, which was okay. Minho liked the guy, and he did owe him his life, after all. But even the Greenie got bored, and left him to converse with Teresa somewhere. Minho rolled his eyes when Thomas excused himself. There was something going on between those two - what it was exactly, he would have to wait to figure out.

At around noon, he had settled himself around the Kitchen, listening to Frypan complain about how old his kitchen tools were. He nodded in the right places, 'um'ing and 'ah'ing when appropriate. His eyes and mind, however, were focused on a stain on the wall, spending a good amount of time trying to figure out what it was.

Then, without warning, a loud siren wailed through the air. Both he and Frypan froze at the familiar noise.

Frypan's eyes narrowed. "Is that..."

Without reply, Minho raised from his seat, and made for the door, the cook right behind him. When they emerged from the Kitchen, he saw most of the Gladers making their way (some running) towards a large hole in the ground where the Box lay.

They reached the area of the Box, where the rest of the Gladers had stopped, hovering hesitantly around the sides.

"Make way, coming through-" Minho heard Newt say.

The second-in-command appeared from behind him, and made his way towards the very edge of the opening. As he did so, the lid of the box began to part.

The darkness of the opening was horrific for every Glader to see. It reminded most of their own venture up in the shaking thing. Darkness, metal, and noise. That's all that lay inside the box.

Except now, there was something-someone-else inside.

Newt's eyes widened, and narrowed. He leaned down pressed his hands to his knees. Minho watched as his jaw slacked.

"...Oh, bloody hell..." Newt muttered.

Minho craned his neck, wondering what had his friend so speechless. When he saw, he found his own words disappear.

Inside the box, despite all disbelief, was another girl.

For a few moments, as the other Gladers began to catch sight, harsh whispers and amazed mumbles filled the air.

Someone's voice cut through the crowd, seemingly to voice the thoughts of every guy in the area.

"Another one?!"

Minho edged closer to the opening of the box to get a closer look. The girl sat huddled in the corner of the box, her knees drawn up to her chest. She stared straight forward, her eyes red and still. She didn't seem scared, or even remotely worried. She just seemed sort of...dead.

Crouching down, he wanted to get her to move. The whole statue thing was kind of unnerving. As he caught sight of her face, he took a minute to look her over. With long hair the colour of dark chestnut, and eyes that were a dark green, she didn't seem too bad at first glance.

He flicked his eyes up to the rest of the group. Each one was looking down, and by the look on their faces, he could tell they were thinking the same thing.

"Alright. Someone bring her up," Newt spoke above the group.

Within a few moments, someone had flung a rope down to the box, hoping that she would climb out herself. But when she continued to sit in complete silence, Newt instructed Thomas and Gally to jump down and hoist her up.

The two Gladers glanced at each other coldly, but made their way into the box. Minho watched quietly as the two slung her arms over their shoulders and lifted her from the box.

"Take her to the Homestead until she wakes up," Newt ordered.

Thomas nodded, and the two began to slowly guide her across the grass, moving away from the crowds. Hushed mumbles echoed through the crowd of Gladers as they began to walk away. Then, the unexpected happened.

Without warning, the girl suddenly became alive.

With a panicked yelp, she swung her elbow towards her side - hitting Thomas direct in the jaw- and freed her right arm. Several of the Gladers stepped back at the action, eyed widened. Voices began yelling.

Thomas fell to the floor, his hand against his jaw.

Gally, her next target, ducked his head at her next swing. Minho watched, stunned, as Gally proceeded to yank her towards the Homestead. Within the next few seconds, the show continued.

Bringing up her knee, the girl caught Gally in the stomach, causing him to double over, gasping for air.

At this point, the Gladers had retreated, standing several feet away, awaiting her next move. How funny, Minho thought, that a bunch of guys can be frightened by a panicked girl.

At this moment, she snapped her head in his direction, and their eyes locked.

The gesture made Minho freeze on the spot. Her eyes had a wild, frenzied look about them. Caught between fear and fury. For a second, he wondered if _he_ was her next target. Her hands were clenched by her side, her chest rising and falling with quick pants. Minho mentally readied himself - he could have her on the ground and tied up in a second if he wanted.

But something happened.

In a completely unexpected turn of events, the girl spun on her heel, and _ran._

The action made Minho almost stumble back. What the hell was she running from? Where was the girl gonna go?

Parting from her pathway, several Gladers made a motion to reach out and grab her, only to miss completely as she weaved in between them at lightening speed. It was only when they stepped back that Minho saw where she was headed.

The Maze door.

"Somebody grab her!" he heard Newt yell. "She's headed for the Maze!"

Without hesitation, Minho began to run. He whipped past the other Gladers, sprinting towards her figure, who was already halfway across the Glade.

Hearing the yelling behind him, Minho was temped to roll his eyes. Catching up to her wasn't a problem. In only a few short moments, he had caught up, and was just a few feet away from her. As they neared the Maze door, he reached out and swiped at her arm. He only brushed the fabric of her shirt before she increased her speed.

"Hey!" he yelled. The chase was getting annoying now.

When she didn't respond, he decided that he'd had enough fun. With a burst of energy, he leapt forward and tugged on her arm. As she fell back, he wrapped his arms around her frame, tightly trapping her in his grip.

With a shout of anger, she kicked out, lifting herself into the air. Minho held tight, and ignored her kicks to his legs, only grunting when she caught his knee.

"Slim it, girl!" he hissed. "Nobody wants to hurt you here!"

"Let me go!" she cried. "I'll kill you!"

Despite himself, he let out a chuckle at that. "Real funny." Finding his strength, he planted her on the ground, spun her around so she faced him, and gripped her wrists tightly. All had happened before she barely had time to regain herself. As she stumbled over her own feet, he steadied her firmly, watching in amusement as her eyes shone with white hot rage.

"Asshole!" she grunted as he pulled her close.

Hearing the rumbling feet of the other Gladers behind him, Minho shook the girl.

"You listen to me," he snapped. Surprisingly, his voice seemed to shut her up. She watched him, her lips curled in disgust as he harshly spoke. "You go in there," he said, nodding towards the door. "...And you'll be dead in a half hour. How are you gonna kill me then, hmm?"

As Newt and the others arrived, he only heard her frustrated grunt as she returned to her struggling.

"Well done, Minho," Newt breathed. He walked up beside the runner and watched the newbie carefully. "She sure puts up a fight."

As if on cue, Minho felt a sharp burst of pain in his foot as the girl slammed her own down on top of it. He hissed, and having lost his grip, felt the girl slip from his hands. Several people yelled from behind him - a rise of warnings that she was about to run again. But he regained himself quickly, and wrapped another arm around her, holding his hand over her mouth to hide her shouts.

"I need that to run," he whispered harshly into her ear. Now he was pissed. "You do that again, and I'm gonna get real angry."

Upon hearing this, the girl did not stop fighting, but her movements slowed.

Minho turned her towards the group. "Thomas, you okay?"

He watched the Greenie, who was looking on at the scene in amazement.

Thomas nodded. "Yeah. Thanks."

Gally's voice erupted through the crowd. "Well I 'ain't! Thanks for asking!" No sooner had the words been spoken did he emerge from the group, red-faced and mad as hell. He stormed towards them, his breaths heaving.

"Slim it, Gally-" Newt began.

"Don't say anything!" the other boy snapped. He pointed a sharp finger in the girl's direction. "This..._chick _comes in here, and causes trouble. I don't like trouble! You just made the biggest mistake of your life, Sweetheart." As he moved towards them, Minho could see Gally's hand twitching in rage.

Acting on some instinct, Minho threw the girl towards Newt, who caught her between his arms. He then walked towards Gally, his face already set into a stony glare. Never before had the two boys said one nice word to each other, so Minho really wasn't above beating the shuck outta him.

"Leave her alone, Slinthead," Minho challenged. "You deserved it. You got a problem, deal with me."

"Gladly," Gally spat. The two boys closed in on each other, and Gally was the first to make a move, shoving his hands against Minho's chest with a large force. Minho leaned into it, shooting a warning look into the other boy's eyes. He raised his arm, only to feel someone yank it back.

"Stop," he heard Thomas command. "We've got bigger problems." Minho felt Thomas release his arm, and let it fall by his side.

Gally snapped his glare towards the newest male. "Nobody asked for your input, shuck-face. Stay out of it."

"Thomas is right." Newt raised his own voice. "We're not bloody turning on each other, so calm down. Go cool off if you have to, but don't stay here and make a bigger problem."

A small growling sound came from Gally. "You're gonna be sorry," he warned, directing his glare towards Minho, before turning and storming off into the collection of trees.

Minho shrugged. "I could have taken him."

"Didn't you get enough at the Gathering?" Newt groaned. He turned his attention towards the whole group. "Everybody clear off! The show's over. Thomas, you're on watch with Alby. Everyone else gets back to work." He pointed at Minho, then to himself. "You're with me. We'll take her to the Slammer."

The two boys held the girl between them, and pulled her in the direction of the Slammer. She didn't resist, but both could hear her small sighs of anger aimed towards them. One they'd reached the small door that let into the make-shift prison, Newt let her go, unlocked the door, and allowed Minho in first.

He firmly escorted her though the threshold, and only released his grip once he had heard the door shut behind them. It was then that she pulled away, stepping back and looking on him as if he were some sort of snake. Minho wanted to roll his eyes - as if he was any more dangerous than the next guy.

Newt moved past him and stood before her, his hands down by his sides. Minho suddenly realised that until now, Alby had been charged with assessing the Greenies. With him in the last phases of the Changing, Newt was now left as top dog. He wondered how his old friend would deal with this, and crossed his arms over his chest as he watched on.

Newt didn't let his face crack as he began speaking, his voice firm. "What's your name? I'm only gonna ask once."

The girl looked as if she were about to come out with something insulting, but after catching Newt's stony stare, she fell quiet. "I don't..." She paused. Confusion raked her expression, until she finally seemed to find the word she was looking for. "...Evelyn."

"Very pretty. Congratulations," Newt muttered. Minho let himself snigger at his friends blatant sarcasm. "Do you remember anything?"

"I don't...I can't." The longer the silence, the more confused she seemed to get. Minho remembered the frustration of not understanding anything about yourself. Just then, he almost seemed to feel sorry for the poor shuck.

"Figures as much," Newt muttered.

The girl (Evelyn, Minho figured to call her) shot her eyes up towards them. "What are you going to do to me?"

At that moment, Newt did roll his eyes to the sky. "Settle down. My name's Newt. This is Minho." Something changed in him then, and Minho watched as Newt stepped forward, slowly. His face softened, speaking a little gentler.

"I'll explain to you as much as I can. It'll sound difficult to understand, but please try and listen. You're in a place called the Glade. All those people out there are the only ones in here. None of us know who we are, or who we were before we came into the glade. We're surrounded by a maze. Every morning, the doors to the maze open, and they shut every night. Every since the first of us were sent up two years ago, we've been trying to find a way out. Never have. You keeping up?"

The girl hesitated, but chose to nod. It was then that Minho realised Newt's approach. He liked it. Sure as hell was a lot nicer than Alby's curt introduction.

Newt continued. "We've built a somewhat sustainable life here. Everyone has jobs, and we keep busy. That boy you clocked in the jaw? That's Thomas. He turned up a week ago. There's another girl - Teresa. She turned up the day after him. Which is extremely unheard of. We've never had more than one newbie a month. ...And now we have you."

He stopped. The girl said nothing, and after a few moments passing in silence, Newt waved his hand in front of her face.

"Are you awake?" he asked, irritation in his voice.

Her eyes dropped towards the ground. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet. Shaky, even. "I...I can't...Can I have a minute?"

Newt tilted his head. "Why not. Take several." Without another word to her, he turned on his heel and gestured to his friend. "Minho."

Minho moved with him as they left the Shack, only looking back to glance at the girl, who was now sitting on the ground with her chin on her knees. When they were outside, Newt turned to him and sighed.

"What do you think?" Minho asked.

Newt shrugged. "Seems genuine. But we'll keep her in there for a day or two until she calms down enough to be with the others. Besides, I want to have a Gathering. Something is happening. First Teresa, now this?"

Minho, without a response ready, let his eyes fall to the Shack door. Behind it, lay a new mystery. A new challenge. A new girl. Something which he wouldn't have even considered happening yesterday.

Although he wouldn't say it aloud, he was secretly a little impressed. Of all the reactions of newbies coming out of the box, hers had certainly been dramatic. Most just tend to curl up and cry, or don't say a word for days. But her, she'd tried to run. And as much as he hated to think it, she had been pretty good at it, too.

Newt's voice started breaking into his head. "Hello?" the other boy whined. Minho snapped back to reality when he saw Newt's clicking fingers in front of his eyes. "Wake up, shuck-face!"

"What?" Minho snapped, swatting his friend's hand away.

Newt let confusion scatter across his face. He turned towards the Shack, blinked, and let his head fall in defeat. "Oh please. Please don't do this to me," he groaned, disappointment lacing his voice.

Minho shrugged. "I wasn't doing anything!"

"Listen here. Until we figure out what's going on, she's not to be talked to. Get me?"

Minho suddenly realised what Newt was implying. He really wished that the Glader would give him a little credit sometimes. "Oh geez, Newt. I wasn't-"

"Just say yes."

"Yes. Okay."

Doubtful still, Newt twisted his lips into a small grimace. "Keep guard," he finally mumbled, before glancing towards the Shack door once more. He then walked off, probably to check in with Alby, leaving Minho alone by the Shack.

Minho turned and looked into the sky of the Glade. At least, he figured it was a real sky. Who was to say that it wasn't some phoney illusion like everything else in this goddamn place. Heat beat down on him, making it easy to find a sense of relaxation. He turned, planted himself down on the ground beside the door, and leaned his head against the wood.

He figured he might as well get some peace before the next flow of drama began.


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE MAZE RUNNER.**

* * *

_Labyrinth_

* * *

It was around three hours later until Minho even heard her speak again.

He had been sitting on the grass, his head against the wall as he picked pieces from the ground and tore them up in his hands. Guard duty sucked. He would have definitely chosen to be out in the Maze facing Grievers rather than be sitting there all afternoon.

He was about to release a large puff of air, when he heard a quiet voice from the other side of the door.

"Uh, hello?"

He turned his head towards the wall, thinking that he had misheard. However, something assured him that he most definitely was not imagining things, and that she was finally choosing to speak. Pushing himself up from the ground, he stood at the door. He slid open a small cover in the door, creating a small gap for conversation with prisoners. He ducked his head slightly and looked through. The girl, Evelyn, was leaning against the wall next to the door, almost opposite to where he had sat just a few seconds previously. She had her arms folded, and was facing the other direction.

"What?" he asked, a little irritation lacing his voice. She did, after all, kick him in the foot.

At the sound of his voice, she turned, slowly. When she faced the opening in the door, she caught his eyes. "Minho, right?"

He straightened. There was something funny about the way she said his name. He suddenly realised that it was the first time he had ever heard a girl speak his name. ...He wasn't sure how he felt about it. Despite his thoughts, he answered, "That's right."

"Listen. I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to hurt you." A shrug shifted her shoulders. "Well, I did. But I-"

"It's cool. You were scared. I get it," he said. He tilted his head to the side, allowing a smirk to spread on his lips. "You didn't hurt me that much, you know."

"I could have killed you if I wanted," she replied. Her eyes were narrowed, her voice holding the hint of a tease.

He scoffed, turning his back towards her once more to look upon the Glade. "Sure."

She continued to speak. Her voice suddenly sounded a lot more sincere. "Tell that Thomas kid I'm sorry. I don't really care about that other guy."

"Gally?" he asked. "You just did what everyone else has been wanting to do for years."

"Well...you're welcome then. I guess."

For a moment, she paused, and Minho assumed that was the end of their conversation. But a few minutes later, he heard her voice again. Closer this time, as if she had stepped closer.

"So, uh...how many of you are there?"

He sighed, realising that she actually wanted to have a full-fledged get-to-know-you session. He turned on his heel, facing her one more. He guessed right - she had stepped closer, leaning into the gap in the door so that only her eyes were visible.

"Around fifty," he said, leaning his shoulder against the wall. He watched her for a moment. As he looked into her eyes, he realised that there were small flecks of gold in them, hidden in the green pools. "...All boys. Except Teresa."

"What's she like?"

He shrugged. How could he describe someone he didn't really know. Or particularly care for? "I don't know. She's alright, I guess. She's kind of exclusive. So if you were looking for a new best girl friend, I don't think she'd be the way to go."

She paused for a beat. In that moment, he almost felt bad for her. He imagined that suddenly being sent up into a large group of teenage guys in some strange, scary place would be awful. No wonder she had flipped out. Her eyes flicked up towards him. "Thanks for the advice."

"Don't get used to it," he smirked. "If you're being all nice to get out, then it's not going to work. I'm just watching you, not letting you go."

"I'm hardly dangerous," she said, rolling her eyes.

"No, but you did try and beat the clunk out of several guys and run into the Maze. So we need to keep an eye on you. At least until after the Gathering."

"What's that?"

Minho sighed. All those questions. She was beginning to sound like Thomas had in his first few days. It really was beginning to grind on his nerves. Didn't these people understand the concept of learning through doing?

"It's a big meeting," he said, shortly. He tapped his knife against the metal frame of the door, sending out a loud tingling noise. "Now be quiet."

She flinched at the noise, but it wasn't enough to keep her quiet for more than a minute or so. "...I need to go to the bathroom."

"...You see that hole in the ground in the corner?"

"Yeah."

"There's your bathroom, Princess. Go nuts."

There was a quick silence as she looked behind her. It was moment before she spoke again, choosing to say, "You're kind of an ass-hole." Her features creased in mild annoyance.

"I pride myself on it." A corner of his mouth lifted in amusement. "Besides, this is me being nice."

* * *

Gatherings were not Minho's favourite thing around the Glade.

Every meeting was the same. Alby would bring up a point, they'd argue for a little while, and eventually get tired and settle on the first point that came to their heads. Put a bunch of guys with large egos in the same room, and you're gonna have some conflict.

At least this time it was an interesting topic. He was looking forward to seeing how Newt handled this one.

As he sat beside his friend around the large table, they waited for the rest of the Keepers one by one. They soon all arrived, coming in and discussing the day's productivity. As everyone had taken a seat and grown quiet, Minho could almost feel the anticipation in the air. He reckoned everybody had something interesting to say about this whole thing.

Newt rose from his seat to get things started.

"Alright, I declare this Gathering begun, and so on and so forth..." he announced, sounding less than impressed that this was the second Gathering he had hosted in the short space of a few days. "First order of business, Teresa's note."

"The freaky end of the world proclamation type note? 'This is the last one. Ever.'?" Frypan asked, his arm dangling lazily from his chair.

"That's right. Ok, so clearly we have a situation on our hands. This are going to start to change more than they already have. We need to keep the other Gladers under control. The more order we can maintain, the less chaos we will have." His eyes flickered over to the Runner. "Minho, please tell me you're making progress?" he asked, his voice pleading.

Minho shook his head. "Not as of yet. But we're running the Maze just as much. Taking shorter breaks, things like that. We're gonna keep referencing our notes and hopefully figuring out something new."

Newt nodded. "Good that. How are we for supplies?"

"Not a problem," Winston said, his voice as mumbling as it always had sounded. "Not time for a mass suicide. Yet."

Newt seemed to ignore the grim comment from the Bloodhouse Keeper. "As long as we keep the minor details in order, we'll be prepared for whatever comes our way. We're expecting a delivery from the Box in the next few days, so we've got that to look forward to. As far as everyone else is concerned, everything is normal."

Frypan's voice spoke above the silence then. "What are we gonna do with Thomas? And Teresa? They're the ones that started the whole crazy mess."

His point seemed to set something off in the room. Most of the others nodded, and began throwing in various opinions and points. Some opposed, some for. Minho kept quiet, listening to what the others had to say. That's normally how he survived these Gatherings anyway, shutting up and getting it over with.

"Nobody is to touch either of those Shanks," Newt said, authority in his words. "They're just as much a part of the Glade as we are. Thomas has earned his keep, and Teresa is obviously a valuable commodity."

Gally decided to speak up then. He sat across from Minho, his arms folded tightly across his chest. "I say we throw the girl in the Slammer and send Thomas into the Maze," he said coldly.

Minho had to withhold a growl. He considered Thomas a friend. Having Gally suggest such a thing pissed him off beyond belief.

Newt seemed to sense his anger towards Gally, and quickly intervened. "Suggesting banishment is a serious thing, Gally."

"I know. That's why I'm suggesting it." The boy seemed to have no sensitivity as to what he was saying.

Minho felt his fists clench under the table. "Thomas has done more good for any of us in the past week than you've gone in a year," he spat. "Leave him alone, slint-head."

Gally snapped his head towards the Runner. "Watch it-"

"Enough!" Newt shouted out, breaking into the angry exchange. "I'm too bloody tired for this today." He ran a hand over his tired eyes and let out a heavy sigh. "Okay, next order of business...the girl."

"Evelyn." Minho didn't even realise that he had said it until the rest of the Gladers turned their heads towards him.

Even Newt gave him a funny look. "Correct. Two girls in just a few days. What have we done to deserve this?"

"Can we suggest that she be kept in the Slammer?" Winston spoke for the first time. "All these new things are making me uneasy."

"I agree," Frypan chipped in. "Until she can get to grips with herself, she stays in holding."

Several voices seemed to mutter words of agreement. For some reason, Minho quickly felt the need to speak up.

"Hang on guys," he reasoned, capturing the attention of the Gathering. "She's not an animal. She was scared and tried to run. Not like any of us acted any better."

"That's true," Newt agreed. Minho sent him a silent thank you with a quick glance. He would always be grateful that his old friend backed him up in times like this. "Minho? You've been keeping an eye on her. What do you think?"

Minho paused. Some of the Gladers looked at him with raised brows. One or two even glanced at him with a sneaky smirk. He wasn't really sure what they were trying to mean by that, but he had a feeling it had something to do with what Newt said. It almost implied that she was _his _responsibility.

But he chose not to say anything. Instead, he decided to fight her case. She could owe him one later. "She apologized for what she did. She seemed to understand our situation. We should give her a chance at least. It was obvious that she was sent here for a reason."

"Yeah. And she's hot."

Minho snapped his head to his side, where Zart was sitting. He looked sheepish, but sent the Runner an honest shrug.

"What?" he asked.

"Let's get one thing straight right now," Newt spoke above the sniggers that erupted. His words held a sense of power - a sternness that Minho had only heard a few times before. "You're all getting a little excited about these girls springing from nowhere. It doesn't mean that they're here for your entertainment. Neither one of them are to be touched. We are Gladers, not savages. We're adults, and will treat them like we treat everyone else."

"I agree," Minho said. He didn't know why, but he found himself thankful that Newt had addressed this.

The second-in-command continued. "The question is, should we let her out of the Slammer tonight? Let's take a vote. All those in favour?"

Minho raised his hand. It took a minute, but after a little while, another person raised theirs. First Zart, then Winston. After that, a majority of the room decided to join in.

"And all those opposed?"

Minho smirked as Gally and two others raised their hands. The case was won.

Even Newt had a difficult time hiding back the smirk that traced his features. "Then it's settled. The girl goes free tonight. After the doors close - we don't want her running off again."

The sound of a chair scraping harshly against the floor sent shivers down the spines of all those in the room. Heads snapped towards Gally, who was now on his feet, his hands fisted against the table.

He spat as he spoke, "You're all crazy! These girls are bad news- Thomas is bad news! We're all gonna suffer because you shucks can't make the right choice!"

"Gally, sit down," Newt reasoned.

"No! Forget it, I'm done. You never listen to what I have to say, anyway. What does it matter?!" Gally yelled. "You're all gonna wish you had listened to me in the end. And the end is coming."

With one last resolving glare Minho's way, the Keeper of the Builders stormed from the room, slamming the door so hard that Minho wondered if the roof would come down on top of them. As the sounds of his heavy feet echoed in the distance, Minho let out a long, low whistle.

"What a shuck-face," he sneered.

"Minho. You're in charge of the girl."

Minho spun in Newt's direction, not sure that he'd heard him correctly. "Why me?"

"Because you have nothing better to do," the second-in-command said. He slammed his hand down on the table and let his head drop, either in exhaustion or stress. Maybe both. "Gathering over. Now piss off."

Minho slowly stood from his seat, waiting until the last Keeper had left the room until he spoke to Newt again.

"You owe me," he grumbled, walking past him with a cold, quick pace.

He could only just hear Newt's amused tone as he shut the door behind him.

"I'll remember that!"

* * *

Minho's boots were heavy as he walked across the dry grass of the Glade towards the Slammer. Swinging the keys around his fingers, he listened to the sounds of the other Gladers going about their business, getting ready for dinner.

Although he didn't want to be in charge of the newbie, he had to admit, Newt knew what he was doing. With Alby out of commission for the time being, his friend was now in charge, and to disagree with anything he said would be betrayal on his part.

He reached the Slammer, and took a big breath. He had hoped that the time in the Slammer would have made the girl re-evaluate her attitude.

He tapped heavily on the door. "Hey, you alive in there?"

"Barely," came the snark reply. Apparently not.

"Do me a favour and step back from the door."

"You gonna break it down?"

Minho shrugged. "I could." He tapped the key against the door to make a metallic ring in the air. "...Or I could unlock it with a key. Step back, hands up."

He waited a second for her to comply before he unlocked the door. As it swung open, he glanced upwards towards Evelyn. As per instructed, she was standing on the other side of the small room, her hands up. She stared back at him with an unhappy glare.

He grinned widely at her. Although he didn't enjoy being the new elected babysitter, he did sort of enjoy her annoyance. "Good evening."

"I wish I could say the same," she mumbled.

"Come on. You're free to go."

"To go?"

"Well, to get out of here." When she didn't budge, he began to back away from the door, shrugging his shoulders. "If you wanna stay, I'm sure you could..."

As soon as the words left his mouth, she let her arms drop and made for the door. "No thanks."

As she moved past him, he felt her arm brush against his. The touch sparked something inside him, but he forced himself to ignore it - putting it down to hunger. As she moved past the door, he reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her into him.

She flinched, but looked up towards him with a glare. They were face to face now. He returned the glare straight back down to her. They were so close, he could almost _feel _her breathing. For a split second, he considered not letting her go just to see what would happen.

But the temptation disappeared as quickly as it arrived.

"Any funny moves, and I'll have you thrown back in here. Get it?" he said, his voice stern.

She quirked a brow. "Tough guy, right?"

"That's right." He let himself smirk at her annoyance.

"Got it," she snapped, yanking her wrist away. His fingers gripped the empty air that was now there.

"Perfection." He followed her out of the door, locking it behind him with an affirmative click. "Let's go meet the locals."


End file.
